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Post by quinn bernard grey on Nov 20, 2010 19:02:01 GMT -5
MR. Q. B. GREY___________
He stretched his arms back above his head, fingers interlocked and back as arched as he could manage, every joint from his knuckles right down through his shoulders to the base of his vertebrae cracking in a satisfying manner. He slumped back into comfortable position lounged along one of the comfortable emerald couches adjacent to the fire in the middle of the common room, arms hanging behind his head over one arm with his legs protruding over the opposite arm in a likewise manner. His eyes rested upon the flames that flickered low in the grate – it was late in the evening, perhaps even pushing morning (Quinn wasn’t one to wear a watch and so wasn’t exactly a master of time when there wasn’t somewhere to be – and when there was, he chose to be late to places, mostly class, as to perpetuate this ignorance of the concept of time). With blue eyes remaining focused, he heard the last of the stragglers in the common room leave for the dormitories (both the girl and the boy, he noted with a smirk, walking upon the same set of stairs), leaving him alone in the spacious and luxurious room.
He stifled a yawn, not that he was particularly tired, flexing and extending his toes in idle rhythm, his brain ticking over all of those little trivialities that built up over the course of the day. It was Friday however, so those associated with class (which he was not particularly welcome of occupying space in his brain which could be reserved for other, more useful, endeavours) were pushed to the back of his mind, a problem for future Quinn to deal with. The more important issues of weekend plans and procuration of contraband substances for said plans were what were occupying his main thought processors for the time being. Specifically it seemed about time for a party again: a private get together of the who’s who of the upper school – attendance by invitation only, the bringing of alcohol for general consumption a necessity.
Of course, the plans were much more complex than simply setting a time and a date and spreading the word around: decoys would need deployed, runners required to send messages to the guests of when each phase of the plan was being carried out, people to acquire and carry the alcohol, those to cast the necessary charms about the venue... Such events in the past had been terribly clever – Quinn had often toyed with the idea of putting just as much effort into his school work, but the ideas were always quickly dismissed as not as much fun and so not particularly worth it. There had frequently been hitches however, usually only half of the intended made it to the party – the others intercepted by staff members or prefects, and there were always those who just never showed up for whatever reason.
STATUS:: done.
WORDS:: four-eight-two.
NOTES:: figured i'd start short, since these things tend to balloon. also this idea sucks, feel free to go in another direction if you have anything.
MUSIC:: because the night - bruce springsteen.
TAGGS:: ms. r. m. darling. |
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